


i'm not choosing, but i'm running out of fight

by weasleyspotter



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Also there's Skye and Lance's made up kids, F/M, It's not really AU, Okay Jemma and Fitz are only mentioned, but I guess it kind of is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2502593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleyspotter/pseuds/weasleyspotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's when she notices him.</p>
<p>He's standing under the doorway, in the shadows. She almost doesn't notice him, because his expression is so dark.</p>
<p>The air leaves her chest in one gasp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm not choosing, but i'm running out of fight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alessandralee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/gifts).



> Ugh, Alessandra always give me the prompts that make me word vomit. It's kind of the worst. I'm kidding, but since this was more than 1k, I thought I'd post it on here. So I hope you all enjoy!

The house is empty, and the lights are off.

Skye slowly pushes the door open, glancing around the dark kitchen. There's a slit in her dress, by her right thigh, that she thinks would be sexy if it didn't happen simply because the knife happened to be off by an inch. There's an ache in her ribs that Jemma assured isn't a broken rib, but probably a bruised one. It doesn't really matter, though. She holds her heels in her hand so they don't break the calm silence.

She's late. Oh so late. Again.

She wonders if they're asleep. They would be. It's been a long time since any of them waited up for her. She doesn't blame them.

She's halfway across the kitchen, and sure she'll make it without waking any of them up, when the lights suddenly turn on, flooding the room with light. She blinks rapidly, letting her eyes adjust to the bright light. She holds up her heels up to her chest, heels pointing outwards in defense.

That's when she notices him.

He's standing under the doorway, in the shadows. She almost doesn't notice him, because his expression is so dark.

The air leaves her chest in one gasp.

"Jamie," she gasps, taking one step towards him. "You scared me. Why are you up? You should be asleep, baby."

He doesn't move. Not towards her, not away from her.

It breaks her heart.

"You were late." His words are biting and cut her deep.

"I know, sweetie." She doesn't bother with pretenses. He's smarter than that. "It's just," she waves her hands wildly, "things got a bit messy. Your Auntie Jemma and Uncle Fitz needed me."

Jamie doesn't say anything. He takes a step into the light though. He's wearing his favorite dinosaur pjs, the ones he won't let her wash because he wants to wear them all the time. There's an uncharacteristically dark expression on his face. But somehow, he looks even smaller in the light.

"We waited for you for two hours." He spits out bitterly.

And she can almost picture them, sitting around the table waiting for her, the cake that she had picked out sitting in front of them. She wonders how long it took them to get angry or worried or disappointed.

"I know," she repeats, swallows thickly, guilt filling her to the core. She closes her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. "Did you cut the cake?" 

"No." 

She opens her eyes to look at him, and he's shaking his head, looking down at the ground. 

"Daddy said that we should wait for you. He said that we'll do it tomorrow." 

"Oh," she gasps. He waited for her. Gosh, she loves him. 

"Jamie," his voice joins them, cracked with sleep. He steps into the bright kitchen, blinking furiously, looking bemused. "What's going on?" 

Jamie looks surprised, and instantly chagrined. 

"Nothing," Skye says quickly. "I think I woke him up when I came back in. Sorry, Jamie baby." She strides towards him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

He glances up at her with a grateful look, but his body still stiffens under her touch. All is not forgiven. 

Lance glances between the two of them, his eyes narrow like he's trying to solve a complex math problem. "Okay," he agrees, "go up to bed," he directs towards Jamie. "You need to be up early for school tomorrow."

Jamie darts out of the room, as if grateful for the excuse to leave. Skye can't help the sigh that leaves her throat.

Lance takes a step towards her and wraps her up in his strong, warm arms and she melts in his embrace. She's home. She missed him. She loves him. She loves him so much. She tries to convey that through her touch.

"Glad you're home," he mumbles into her hair.

She thinks that he won't make her feel bad about missing Linda's birthday. He understands. He knows how the life is.

(But he's different, she thinks. No one had expected Lance to take to domestic life better than she did. He had been so comfortable being a dad. He settled down in a way that she never could. He was selective about the missions he took, and he willing let her run off whenever a mission perked her interest, and he never blamed her for anything. He never struggles between their two lives, like she does.)

She doesn't realize she's crying until he suddenly pulls back her, eyes frantic scanning her face. He leads her over to the kitchen table and sits her down, right as she lets out a hysterical sob.

"It's alright, love." He says in a soothing voice, eyes scanning her whole body. "Where does it hurt? Did Simmons get a look at you?"

Weakly she shakes her head. "He hates me," she blubbers out.

"Who?" His voice hardens, and she thinks that he's about to punch something, or maybe someone.

"Jamie," she hiccups a sob.

His face softens, and a sad look crosses over his face. "He doesn't hate you," he says automatically.

"You didn't hear him," Skye says.

Lance sighs. "He just misses you, and he doesn't know how to express that." He rubs a hand through his mussed up hair. "He's a bit more like me, I'm afraid."

Skye lets out a short laugh at the comment, and instantly sobers up. "How do you do it?" She asks quietly. "Balance home life and work stuff."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Bobbi and I," he begins shortly, then stops, glancing at her. She nods for him to continue. "We didn't really give a shit about the whole home life thing. We were working all the time. And that was part of the problem. She grew up before me. She wanted more than me when I still thought work was the most important thing." He places a hand on her cheek. "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

She nods. They had rushed into their relationship. Jamie had been an accident, and she thought she was ready for Linda because Lance had been ready. She bits down on her lip, she wouldn't change anything though. She doesn't know anything about family, and she flees to work because it's all she really know. And maybe he's not blaming her for running away, but he'll still call her out on it. "I'm sorry," she looks away from him, feeling slightly ashamed.

"No," he cuts her off. "It's okay." He places a soft kiss on her forehead. "Come to sleep when you're ready." He finishes, getting up and walking out.

She sits in the kitchen, the bright light beaming down at her, her son's accusations ringing in her ears, Lance's soft musings soothing the aftermath.

Tomorrow, she promises herself, things will change. She will get up, and cut the cake with her children. She'll apologize to Jamie, hold him in her arms, smooth back his brown curls, and play with him until he falls asleep. She'll hold Linda in her arms and never let her feel the way that Jamie does tonight. 

Things will change, because she'll be better.

Eventually when the guilt isn't paralyzing anymore, she gets up and turns off the light.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
